
Let me start off by saying that I love Robert Griffin III. EVERYBODY does. Hell I’m an Eagles fan and still love the guy. And that’s exactly the point. What the hell does Robert Griffin III know about criticism? There are Klansmen who own Robert Griffin III jerseys. Probably excuse his interracial relationship, too. RGIII could live 50 NFL lives and never know the undying blinding pain of being Tony Romo. Being Tony Romo is not nearly as fun as it should or could be. If Romo played for the Packers or Patriots or Ravens or any number of other teams he might have a Super Bowl. And if he played for a shitty nowhere team like the Cardinals he could break team records and blow games in December and nobody would care. But unfortunately the way the cards were dealt, Tony ended up playing for “America’s Team”. And part of the responsibility of playing for “America’s Team” is having the entire sporting nation either hate your guts or sincerely enjoy watching your failure.
“Don’t listen to what anybody else is saying about you. You’re a great quarterback, man. And this game doesn’t mean anything.” Absolute horseshit. Maybe the game didn’t mean much to the Cornball Brother with the world on his dick but it meant a HELL of a lot to an aging quarterback with a new baby and Starter as his only sponsorship deal. Nobody has purchased an article of Starter clothing since Andy Reid had three sober sons.
Point is: save the life lessons on hard losses, kid. Tony Romo is a grown-ass man who has taken the type of media beating that would have driven most men to Javon Belcher-ville. You’re out of your element.

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